Sandy, our baby, our first-born (Born 2/8/87 - Died 4/11/03). You came to live with us when you were just a few weeks old, abused and abandoned by your first "family." The first thing we had to do for you was to get you medical attention. You were so little and fit into the palm of my hand. But then you grew into a beautiful, loving member of our family. Your greatest joy in life was chasing your tennis ball. You would bark so much to get one of us to throw it for you that sometimes it almost became so annoying that we had to hide your tennis ball. You would always find it, though, no matter where we tried to hide it. When we made the move from Michigan to Florida, you became introduced to your second favorite item -- the swimming pool. We would always laugh because you would purposely drop your ball into the pool and then run to the other side and dive in after it. You were one of 15 little dogs in our household, but each one of you has your own special place in our hearts. Your spot will never be filled. As the years went by, your dark tan hair turned almost completely white. Then earlier this year we were told that your kidneys were beginning to shut down and there was nothing that could be done except make you as happy and comfortable as possible. The last couple of months your 16 years have caught up with you. You would still try to chase your ball, but never quite had enough strength to bring it back. You still tried to get in the pool, but couldn't quite swim all the way across. We had to make the pool off limits to you. The one thing you will always have is our love. On April 6 Mom died and we made the trip to take her back to Michigan. You were too weak to make the drive, so you stayed with the vet. On April 11 about an hour before we left for Mom's funeral, we got a call from the vet telling us you were gone -- on the way to Rainbow Bridge. When we first found you 16 years ago, the plan was to give you to Mom who had just lost her 18-year-old poodle; but we fell in love with you and couldn't give you up. This brings us to Gypsy's story. Gypsy (Born 8/10/87 - Died 4/26/03) was the product of an unfortunate, unplanned breeding of friend's dog. When I first met Gypsy, she was a squirming 8-week-old being prepared to make a trip to the local animal shelter. I realized then that she would be the puppy who would be given to Mom since Sandy remained with us. She was quite a task for a working senior citizen, but Mom loved her in spite of the fact that Gypsy destroyed her living room furniture in her first year. After that, she settled down and became Mom's pride and joy. I really believe that Gypsy kept Mom going for almost 16 years. Because of Gypsy, Mom got her daily walks -- usually 2 or 3 daily walks. Gypsy was totally devoted to Mom and Mom was totally devoted to Gypsy. Gypsy's welfare took priority over everything else. After Mom retired and moved to Florida to live near us again, Gypsy loved to visit and play with my dogs; but was always anxious to return home with Mom. She was definitely a one-person dog. Then in 2001 the unthinkable happened. Mom got sick and went to the hospital for heart surgery. Gypsy stayed with us for 6 weeks but missed Mom so much. Their reunion only lasted until January 2002 when Mom had to go to a nursing home. Gypsy came to live with us. She did well at first, but then started to decline when she realized she wasn't ever going home again. She would go through spells of not eating for days. She liked my dogs but didn't really want to become part of a family of 15 other dogs. She was always the only pet. She became more and more depressed. We had the vet run every possible test to see if there was something medically wrong -- she was in perfect health. Her only misfortune was missing Mom. Even visits to the nursing home didn't cheer her up because she knew she couldn't stay. Mom passed away on April 6. The strange thing is that on this day, Gypsy ate her last meal. She also stayed at the vet's while we went to Michigan for the funeral. We returned on April 15. When we picked her up, we were told she refused to eat the whole time we were gone. There was still nothing physically wrong. Gypsy never ate again. I even tried fixing chicken and hamburger for her, but this didn't work either. The last few days have been very hard for all of us seeing Gypsy getting weaker and weaker. She couldn't even stand up anymore. I really tried, but I think she only wanted to be with Mom. Maybe the bond between them was so strong that even death couldn't break it. I think Mom was calling Gypsy to be with her again -- so this morning they were reunited for eternity at the Bridge. Please also visit Ginger, Homer and Tiffany.

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